Siren's Song: The Awakening
by StarCaster18
Summary: In an effort to find himself, Gallowglass disappears in search of a fresh start. While in Greenland, he happens upon a curious bartender named Sal, who is unlike any creature, or woman, has ever known. Before he knows it, Gallowglass is swept up in the currents of an ancient war, now revived after the return of the Book of Life, and Sal is somehow in the middle of it all.
1. Chapter 1

The bar was just as he remembered – tucked away from the main road near the water on Nuuk street. It had been centuries since he had last been here, but he always remembered this spot. No matter the era, there was always food and drink to be found next to the ports on the western side of Greenland. Gallowglass tightened the mooring lines to the rickety dock and breathed in the clean air of the place he had once lived. He wasn't sure why, after all these years, he needed to come here. But as he couldn't return to Sept Tours or London, it seemed as good as any spot to be.

The boardwalk groaned beneath the heavy steps as Gallowglass made his way to the Portside Tavern, his breath light in the wintery air. Memories of what once was flooded his mind, their shimmery outlines fading to the modern-day buildings as he continued onward. The tavern door opened with a light groan, revealing a simple interior of wood and retired nautical pieces from local fishermen. What patrons occupied the establishment nodded their greetings and continued their lively conversations, a hearty laugh occurring here and there.

Gallowglass seated himself at the curve of the bar, out of direct line of the door but close enough to keep it within his view. A trait he never, after centuries of living, grew out of. He scrubbed at his face, his hands finding a way into the long blonde mess of hair and loosed a heavy sigh. A year, or close enough to a year since he had left London and yet it still felt like yesterday – the pain of wanting what you knew was not yours still chipped away at him. It was not an unknown feeling. There had been many a time in which he had desired something. Often resulting him taking it, consequences be damned. There had never been a temptation, though, that had asked him to cross the lines of loyalty and family for it. That the was the one line he would never cross. Part of him had hoped that the distance away would help soften the blow. If anything, it almost made it worse. Diana had been such a comfort in his long life of violence, wars and darkness. He almost laughed at the thought – he could already hear Philippe's criticism from the grave.

"My, such a face." A soft voice called to him. Gallowglass didn't bother to look up at the bartender who leaned against the edge of the bar top. "If you keep frowning like, I'll worry about serving you." The woman pushed away and pulled a heavy tumbler from beneath the bar, pouring a generous serving of aged scotch.

"How'd you know this is what I was going to order?" He grumbled, trying to keep the edge from his voice. Gallowglass' gaze fell to the amber liquid pushed before him. He watched the changes in its color, ranging from gold to deep amber, until it settled. Such an advance would usually prompt a flirtatious quip from him in the hopes of free drinks or company in the evening. But not even now did he have the energy to partake in such antics.

"You don't look like a wine man." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, shifting her weight to one side.

Gallowglass looked up at that, catching her as she sauntered off to the other end of the bar where another customer signaled for a refill. Were his problems that easy to read? Or did she happen to be a witch and magicked her way into his mind. He groaned at that last possibility. The last thing he needed was another witch. Gallowglass had had enough of witches to last him the next two centuries. Returning his attention back to his drink, he took to swirling the liquid until the desire to down it grew.

The scent of the sea hit him - but not the sea as it was now. No, this was the smell of what once was, long before man and machine corrupted the waters. And something else…

The bartender leaned a hip against the edge of the bar and crossed her arms once more. Gallowglass remained hunched over the bar, like a dog guarding his bone, unwilling to

"You're not going to drink yourself to death, are you?" He blinked at her question, taken aback at the accusation and a little offended.

"Weell," he drawled, "that was rather direct." Scowling a bit more in the hopes she would wander away again. She chuckled in response – a sound he, despite himself, rather liked.

He found himself straightening up a bit more and caught her gaze, taking in who was now in front of him. She had to be no more than 31 and of average height, made taller by the designer leather black boots. While not rail thin or skinny as most bartenders and women he crossed these days, she was neither heavy. Rather, she had this classic curve to her that most women would either kill for or starve away if only to embody the thin, skeletal models often idolized. She had a figure of grace and strength – and owned every inch of herself without excuse. The cotton blue blouse hung untucked over black jeans, the sleeves carelessly rolled up to her forearms. Silky black hair was pulled loosely in a low, messy bun at the nap of her neck; framing a slender oval face of caramel skin. It was easy enough to know she wasn't born here – certainly somewhere warm, where the sun didn't hide behind winter and the land was warm and green. It was her eyes though that seemed to make time stand still. Almond shaped eyes of swirling grey and deepest blue sparkled back at him, teasing him. . He blinked a bit – eyes don't change color, not like that. He had to be imagining things already.

"Sorry, I tend to be rather direct at times." She topped him off and continued to watch him, waiting for him.

"I'm not going to kill myself if that the answer yer looking for."

"Had to check." The bartender shrugged, turning to leave.

"Yer not from around here, are you?" Stopping her. Why? He didn't want her to leave – not that he needed her to stay, but… she was unusual. And that piqued his curiosity, or what was left of it.

"What gave it away?" She gestured to herself with a laugh. "No – I'm not from here." Witty, but not a real answer. Either she was used to keeping herself at a distance from leery, drunk patrons or she didn't want to be known.

"Italy?" Galloglass took another swig of the liquor. The warmth filled the cold of his core briefly, but did little else given his state of being. Almost like he was drinking sunshine. "Greece, Spain?"

"Knowing where I'm from, distracting yourself like this, will only keep the pain at bay." He froze at her words. She was too close to the mark. Not a witch, she didn't feel like one. Daemon? Damn creatures always had a habit of seeing other people's business without asking. That would certainly explain her canny ability to peg his emotion.

"I don't know the details and I'm not going to ask. But I'm a bartender – I know heartbreak when I see it." She drew closer to him as if ready to speak a secret that was only for him.

Gallowglass leveled a look at her and raised a hand to stop her. "If you're about to tell me 'be patient, the universe is working to find my soul mate' or 'things fall apart for a reason to make way for good things,' please spare me the corny bullshit and mind your own business."

Even he cringed at the bitterness and anger in his own words. For as much as he despised those kernels of self-comfort, part of him buried down below, needed to hear it. Diana was the calm harbor to the long and violent life he led – she had been the one who offered that gentleness. And she belonged body and soul to the man he admired most in this life. It killed him that she was beyond is grasp and it felt like betrayal and death against Matthew to feel like this.

"Don't hide from the hurt." Lost in his own thoughts and self-pity, Gallowglass hadn't realized she'd taken his hand, the warmth of her very soul stretching out and wrapping around him like the sun on the open sea. She did not balk at the coldness of his hand or pull away. Instead, she gave it a soft squeeze.

"Scream, start a fight, break dishes, cry – accept it in any way that works for you so that you can move forward. Because one day you'll meet your person. If you don't move forward, you'll only end up hurting them with your own unresolved pain. And then you'll lose who fate moved the heavens to bring you."

This was not what he was expecting, or imagined in a million years, to hear. It must have stunned him into utter silence for the next moment he blinked, she had already wandered away.

Begrudgingly he knew she was right – after all, wasn't that what he was trying to do by distancing himself? Or was he simply running away? He returned his attention to the glass before him, her words replaying over and over in his mind. Thinking back on his life, it dawned on him that he had never taken the time to accept certain truths or situations, especially if he despised the outcome. Any time he came close to emotions like he, he usually found himself off on some campaign or mission for Philippe at his own request. Diana had been the first constant in his long life that re-connected him back to life and the madness and emotions that came with it. While part of him might always long to love her as more than his Aunt - more than anything he didn't want to lose that connection to life. Gallowglass knew then that distance alone wasn't going help change. It was time for him to get his bearings again. Since Diana and his departure, he had gotten so lost that he almost forgot the song… but now he heard it loud and clear. The sea was calling him back home.

Gallowglass hastily stood to leave, but looked around to thank the woman who had, somehow, pulled him back from the edge. She was gone. He looked to the clock on the wall. How much time had passed? The man that now stood behind the bar made his way down to him, "another drink?"

"Who was the lass from before? Where did she go?"

"Sal? Her shifts been over for a bit." The man glared at Gallowglass. "And I'm not in the business of giving out my employees' information. Is that going to be an issue?"

Only the sound of coins falling against the bar top replied.

Faster than light or sound, Gallowglass was racing out in to the street tentatively smelling the air to find her. Sal.

Block after block, he raced through crowds to pick up any trace of her. There at the edge of the city he smelled it – the scent of sea and pine, faint but there nevertheless. It was her that he smelled at the bar. Gallowglass cursed the shifting winds but didn't relent. Further and further he ran from the city until he was near the old cliffs that were once occupied by the first occupants of this island though their remains were long gone. He caught her form some short ways off, near the cliffs edge and he used the last of strength to close the distance to catch her.

Her black hair, now loose, whipped about her in the winds as she neared the edge as if the strands were a part of the wind itself. Fear set in him – she was too close. The cold of the water would kill her, let alone the fall. The sea clashed against the cliff side, again and again, climbing higher and higher with each wave until finally the tips of the waves were visible. Still she did not stop her pace.

"SAL!"

She turned in surprised at the sound of his voice. He was met with glowing blue eyes as if the sun itself lit them from behind. Clearly she hadn't expected him here – though it didn't seem to throw her off too much. Sal cocked her head and grinned, taking one step further behind. The waves rose like a limb and crashed down. In a blink of an eye, she was gone.

Gallowglass raced to the edge in a frenzy, his vampire eyes scouring every craggy surface below for the broken body that was sure to be there. But it wasn't. She was gone, as if the sea itself had swallowed her whole.

He fell to his knees in a total loss of what had just happened. True he hadn't fed in some time, but there was no way that was causing him to hallucinate. Or was it? Had his hunger created this entire day in his mind? No… that warmth, that laugh. It had been real. The wind screamed about him as the sea beckoned once more to his soul. He lifted his head - it was then that he caught the scent of the old sea and pine once more.

No - He had not imagined her. Gallowglass stood and gazed out at the chaos of the ocean before him. If life had taught him anything, it was things like this didn't just happen – it was often planned by powers beyond them. A memory came to mind. Before he had left, Gallowglass recalled Diana speaking about things long forgotten were beginning to awaken. They had heard the Goddess in the darkness and were coming.

Sal was neither witch, nor vampire, nor Daemon… she was something else entirely. And more than anything, Gallowglass needed to know what. There was a possibility she was one of these foreshadowed creatures. Regardless of what turmoil remained at home, he was still a Knight of Lazarus – and if this new presence could pose a threat to the order, its charges or his family, he was obligated to investigate and eliminate.

For the first time since London, Gallowglass began to sing an off-key sea chanty, working his way back to the docks. It was time to hunt.


	2. Chapter 2

Sand crunched beneath the heavy leather boots as Sal stepped on to the white beaches of the Emerald Isle. She threw her arms high above and stretched gently to left and then to the right, releasing the tension that had built up in her spine and heaved a great sigh. It had been quite some time since Sal had last been here. Her schedule was tight and though she had other places to be, something in her core told her that this is where she needed to be. If history was any lesson, she knew better than to ignore these little 'tugs'. She drew her across her forehead as the sun's rays beamed a bit brighter this day – smiling, she knew today was going to be a fun day.

Gallowglass had never been one to flinch at the challenges the sea threw at him. Rather, he delighted in them – and this particular trek did not disappoint. Lightning storms and high seas plagued the first few nights on his sail across the Atlantic, but Gallowglass sang the entire time, a smile glued to his face as salt water and winds snapped against him. It had been too long since he last lived like this – lived like the sailor he once was. Unknowingly, little by little, the claws that had wrapped themselves so tightly around his heart began to loosen.

Based on the direct of the scent, Gallowglass determined that she, it, was headed to Ireland. He tightened the main sail line a bit and turned the wheel a click or two, instinctively ducking as the boom shifted from port to starboard. Ireland. Home – closer to them than he wanted. Even now he could feel the uncertainty of the closeness grow at the mere thought of her. No - not today, he shoved those feelings down into the darkness he knew so well and tightened the heavy rope within his clenched fist. _To Ireland_.

Sundays were far quieter than Sal had remembered when last she was here, but watching the few walking citizens make their way was almost nostalgic. Finishing the last of the Guinness pint she had ordered, Sal left a few bills on the bar top and made her way back out on to the cobbled streets. Though not as cold as Greenland, the chill was certainly sharper than desired. Resigned to this notion, Sal stuffed her hands deep in to the pockets of her black winter coat to return some feeling to the reddened digits. The steady rhythm of her steps against the stones lulled her into a comforting quiet. Turning this way and that, winding further and further in to the forgotten parts of the city until all the stone and alleys looked a like. Sal winced as images of stolen memories flooded her senses. They jumbled together in patched images of colors and sounds – but one image came through clear. _The Admirals Den_. Sal looked up, finding herself before the very image – decrepit wasn't even an apt description to the building. Safety hazard, disease ridden and crumbling mess were closer terms. The shoddy gray stone was, perhaps, dated to the origins of the city itself. Arched windows were boarded up with now warped wood and a tangle of graffiti tags, the most recent of which professed undying love for Amy. _What a lucky girl_ , Sal thought with a grin. Sal rested her hand on the dirty door knob and waited for the click, and opened to a warm room decked in antiques, wood and perplexed Vampires.

Gallowglass inwardly groaned as he found himself before The Admirals Den. Of all the damn places, why this? When he had been a newly minted Vampire, The Admiral's Den had been one of his and Hancock's favorite spots over the many years. It was a bawdy spot, filled with almost every vice and bit of fun a Vampire could find – they had indulged so much so that after a period both had been banned indefinitely after Philippe's intervention. He pulled at the back of his neck absentmindedly as he ran over all other possibilities. Maybe the winds had shifted the scent or perhaps he wandered here out of habit. There was just no possible way she could be here… unless… Panic swept through him and he raced for the door, pausing at the sound of tinkling glass from above. Gallowglass looked up and within seconds reached forward to the falling figure above. With practiced grace, he guided the falling figure down and into his arms, a puzzled look upon his face.

"Perfect timing!" Sal quipped and made to squirm away. Gallowglass tightened his grip on her and stared squarely at the face he had been hunting in admiration and confusion.

"And where do you think _you're_ going?"

"Preferably away from the angry group behind me?" The door slammed open carrying a tide of angry vampires encircling them.

"What did you do?"

Sal balked. "Me? I didn't do anything violent if that's what you're asking"

"No," drawled a heavy Gaelic accent. "She just walked in, uninvited and destroyed our entire back wall fer no good reason." Seamus, the proprietor of The Admirals Den, casually strolled forward, his dark brown hair tied at the nape of his neck with the same leather throng as past eras, casually dressed in a heavy black sweater and jeans. Though half a century older than Gallowglass, Seamus was a perfect example of the old-world warrior. Though on the shorter side even after turned, Seamus was powerfully built with thick muscles hidden beneath heavy wool and denim to avoid suspicion at first glance. Deep blue round eyes set within an angular square face glared hell and more at the women who, oh so innocently, smiled back from his arms.

"Oh fer fuck's sake Seamus, more damages been done ter the place o'er the years then a wee hole in the wall." Seamus cocked an eyebrow in question and stepped aside. Gallowglasses' eyebrows raised near to the top of his head as he observed the obliterated back wall, revealing an unknown back room filled with dust and dirt.

"Weeell…perhaps wee hole was a bit of an understatement." A few of them began to edge closer, their eyes screaming excitement in anticipation of punishment. "You'll not take the price from her skin." His His voice dropped dangerously low, a warning, as his grip tightened even more. Any tighter and Sal thought she'd be crushed against his massive chest. "I'll pay for the lass's damages me self. You'll have the money today Seamus. But so help me, if one of your lot takes another step towards me I'll tear them to shreds and make her work look like a ding compared to me own."

Seamus crossed his arms and nodded. "Get me the money today and we'll be done." He whistled. A few lingered at first, disappointed in the lack of bloodshed. But a final glare from Seamus got their feet moving. The alley silenced once more at the close of the door – save for the loud exhale from Sal.

"I think that went pretty well, don't you?" She looked up and grinned.

"Are you daft?" Gallowglass growled. He wasn't sure if he wanted to throttle her or admire the gumption. "Going in ter a place like that all on ye own? What in the god's name were you _doing_ there?" Sal shifted to get both feet back on the ground – it was only after Seamus agreed to the terms that she noticed he had refused to put her down. The movement only made him more determined to keep her theres.

"You're not going anywhere lass. You owe me." Sal balked at the accusation.

"For what?" Her voice grew high in response. "I was more than capable of dealing with the situation!"

"The broken glass and angry mob suggest otherwise." He loosened his grip and Sal took the opportunity to bolt. Gallowglass knew she would and had managed to appear in front of her before she could get too far.

"What are you even doing here? Are you stalking me?" She huffed, rubbing the cheek she had managed to crash into his massively, sculpted chest upon his sudden appearance.

"Stalking is such a harsh term." He grinned wickedly. "Concerned citizen is much more appropriate – especially after this little incident."

"Be concerned as you want, I'll be gone within the next hour and you won't see me again."

"Oh – you're not going anywhere. Not until I've paid Seamus and we have a little chat."

Sal's heart skipped, just once. A quick secondary beat in panic. "No – Unfortunately for me, I need to leave. _Now._ " Her face grew stern as she emphasized the need for departure, praying it was enough to get her. She was more than aware that if he wanted to stop her at present, he could in her current condition.

Gallowglass's gaze narrowed. Her scent had shifted from a summer ocean breeze to the heavy salty air that filled the world right before a storm. He paused a moment and observed her stillness meeting the unwavering stare. Marveled at it really. The sun stretched and peaked just over the walls, highlighting the blue undertones of her dark hair, bathing her in this ethereal glow and stormy eyes that changed hues like waves breaking upon the beach. Something was different – he was sure though that this woman was neither witch, nor daemon, nor vampire. Instincts screamed that something was not right – that she was more than appearance. And then it dawned on him.

"I'm not the only one following you, am I?" He asked slowly.

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. Without a second thought, he took hold of her hand and began to lead her out of the labyrinth of the ancient city, back to the busy streets of the current era. Sal made to protest at the audacity of his boldness, but one sharp look silenced any further cries from her lips. In truth, curiosity at the strange turn of events this afternoon ended up overpowering her need to dominate. In the end, it was back to the weird coincidence that pulled her this morning from her travels. That tug – that damn, little tug had pulled a little harder when Gallowglass appeared. It seems that the dear fates were indeed active once more.

They had made it to the center of the town when the shock rippled through the city. A tremor would be what the humans called it – a unique experience not likely to repeat or some other quieting headline to minimize any panicked citizens. Gallowglass could feel the power in that wave. The sheer raw intensity of it was enough to make his own cold blood freeze within his veins. It was a beacon, something to pin point whatever it was looking for. Sal turned with an intensity that could have rivaled Philippe.

"We need to leave. _Now_."

Gallowglass had to be out of his mind. That was the only logical explanation for what he was about to do. Hell, what he was currently doing. Madness – sheer, utter madness. He had no inkling of who this woman was, or what danger she posed to him or anyone. So why in god's teeth was he dragging her away, with him? Faster than possible, he tugged her in to his Atlantic Ketch and pulled free the mooring lines.

"You realize this is considered kidnapping, right?" She chided as the boat began to pull away from the harbor. Gallowglass coiled the ropes with expert ease, tucking them into their appropriate places before unfurling the main mast's sail. Swirling eyes of blue and grey watched in interest at the methodology and practiced movements.

"You do realize that _you_ were the one telling me we had to leave." He

"Yes, but not together!"

"Well ye didn't specify that now, did ye?"

Sal crossed her arms, her eyes habitually drifting to the sea.

"And don't go getting ideas disappearing on me again." Gallowglass stared at her squarely.

"What's to stop me?" She grinned, proding at the warrior façade he had suddenly taken up.

"Because ye owe me for saving yer ass, lassy. You may have done a number on that wall, but I don't think yer a match for Seamus and his brood." Sal shifted. His timing had been rather fortuitous. By all accounts the building should have been empty. Especially if appearances were to serve for anything.

"Get inside – it's going to rain." Gallowglass's head nodding in the direction of the spacious center galley. "There should be something in there to drink. I don't keep much in the way off food."

"I'm rather shocked the fridge isn't full of blood." Sal quipped, ducking her head as she went below deck. Gallowglass mocked her retort in silence.

"Right like I haven't her _that_ before…" he muttered to himself. The island began to shrink in the distance as they drifted further away with the current, all the while arguing with himself in taking her aboard. He should have just paid the debt and left her there on the island. It didn't matter what that power was – it had nothing to do with him. Sure, he was curious, but there was tons of explanations as too why. Gallowglass groaned and turned to make his way in to the galley. He had just gotten himself in to something – of that he was certain and he hated himself for getting dragged in to yet another issue that wasn't his own. Something deep within him purred in response – _liar_.


End file.
